Subject A6, The Variable
by Plerfstacks
Summary: Anna and her friends have finally escaped the Maze, and are now faced with the challenge of making it across the Scorch to obtain a cure for the Flare. Anna does her best to keep the Gladers in order even in the toughest of situations, and with Newt and Minho by her side, she helps them try to get through the Scorch.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone! It's been almost a week since I posted chapter 17 of my Maze Runner fanfic, and now I'm finally getting around to posting the first chapter of the sequel! Yay! :D**

 **Enjoy!**

 **-Plerfstacks**

 **P.S. If you haven't read my first fanfic (Before He Came), then this story probably won't make a ton of sense, so make sure to read that one first!**

Chapter 1

Anna and Teresa's shared room was covered by a blanket of awkward silence for quite a while. The two girls had never been the best of friends, and now that they were in the same shucking room for a whole night, Anna didn't know what to do. She contented herself with staring up at the boards that made up the top bunk, which Teresa occupied. Anna realized that this was the first time that she could remember sleeping in a sturdy, air conditioned building that wasn't in danger of falling over. She frowned, unsure whether to feel happy that she finally was able to experience this, or annoyed that she had been deprived of such simple things. Anna didn't have to decide, however, because Teresa spoke from above her.

"Anna?"

"Yeah?" Anna replied.

"How long were you guys in the Glade before we got out?" Teresa asked.

Anna didn't have to think about the answer to that one, but it was a moment before she replied.

"Two shucking years."

Teresa fell silent as she apparently thought about this.

"Wow," she eventually said. After a moment, she spoke again. "And you were the leader from the beginning?"

Anna nodded, then realized that Teresa couldn't see her.

"Yep," she said out loud. "From day one."

"If you don't mind my asking… How?"

Anna frowned.

"What do you mean, _how?_ "

Teresa paused for a second, apparently thinking about how to phrase what she wanted to say.

"You know… How did you get the position? Did they elect you?"

"No," Anna replied honestly. "I sort of elected myself. On the first day, we were super disorganized and didn't know what to do, so after we all woke up without our memories, I sort of began giving people instructions on what to do. The job stuck, I guess."

Teresa didn't reply, and the room lapsed into awkward silence once more. As the silence grew heavier, Anna surprised herself by speaking up.

"Teresa, I just wanted to, um, _apologize._ "

"What?" Teresa asked. "What do you want to apologize for?" Anna sighed.

"You know. Being a shuckface to you and Thomas in the Glade. It's just that… I'd never really understood Thomas, and when you showed up the day after he did, I sort of pinpointed both of you as trouble. Then it turned out that you guys were actually the solution to all our problems."

Teresa didn't seem to know what to say.

"Uh… Thanks, Anna," she said after a while. "Apology accepted."

Anna could tell that their conversation was over, so she rolled over, her face towards the wall, and fell asleep.

Anna was awoken during the night by the sound of the door opening and somebody stepping heavily into the room. Anna blinked blearily as she glanced towards the door. She couldn't see anything, but as her eyes adjusted she could make out a very shadowy figure moving towards her, carrying something that looked dangerous. Anna was about to call for help when the person—whoever it was—leaned over her and aimed the dangerous-looking thing at Teresa, who made a small noise of surprise. A second later, Anna heard a quiet _zap_ sound and the person picked Teresa up from the top bunk. Had he just killed her? What the shuck was going on? Anna was speechless as the person carried Teresa's limp form from the room and shut the door behind him. A quiet _click_ told Anna that he'd locked it, but she climbed out of bed to make sure anyway. When she jiggled the doorknob and it didn't open, Anna crept back to her bed, shivering with unexpected cold, and after two hours or so she found sleep again.

When Anna woke up for the second time, daylight was streaming in through the window. She climbed out of bed, remembering suddenly what had happened to Teresa. She had to find a way out of the room. Picking up her switchblade, Anna walked over to the door, wondering if it really was locked, or if that had been a figment of her imagination.

"That won't work," said a voice directly behind her. Anna whipped around, brandishing her knife at whoever it was talking to her. In a flash, she'd pinned the sandy-haired boy up against the wall and was holding her knife inches from his throat.

"Who the shuck are you?" Anna hissed. The boy looked at her, wide-eyed. He glanced down at her knife's blade, and then back to Anna.

"My name is Aris," he managed. "I don't know what's going on. When I went to bed, I was in a room that looked like this one, but nobody was there with me. Now you're here, and you're, um, trying to kill me." Anna looked from the seemingly-innocent boy to her knife and back again. She reluctantly released him, and he stumbled away from her as soon as she did. She flipped her blade back into the closed position, staring at her new companion all the while.

Anna suddenly noticed something out of the corner of her eye, and she turned to the window, pushing the horrible frilly curtains away. The light was still very dim, but once she could make out what was out there, she recoiled at the sight of zombielike people trying to break into the room, clawing at the glass and pressing their faces up against it. Their faces were horribly lacerated, some of them missing an eye or their nose. Anna looked away from the awful scene outside, and instead focused on getting out of the room. She looked around for something to break out with. Her eyes landed on her boots lying on the floor, and she grabbed it and began to beat the living shuck out of the doorknob using the heel of her boot. After a few good whacks, it broke off and Anna slipped her feet into her shoes and pushed the door open. She immediately gagged at the smell radiating outward from the room on the other side, and her eyes began to water as she motioned for Aris to follow her.

The room was dark, much too dark to see; Anna and Aris tiptoed carefully through the maze of tables and chairs.

"Where's the light?" Aris whispered.

"Over here somewhere," Anna replied. She moved towards where she thought the light switch would be, but she was stopped by something hanging from the ceiling. She reached out and groped blindly around for what was in her way, and her hand closed around what felt like _skin._ She shuddered, but decided not to investigate this any further and instead look for the light switch. Finally she found it, on the far side of the room.

"Here it is," Anna said triumphantly, flicking it.

She immediately gasped in horrified shock as she realized what had been hanging from the ceiling. Aris was standing on the other side of the room, his mouth agape as they both took in the disturbing sight that they were seeing. There were shucking _dead bodies_ hanging by their necks from the ceiling, and their faces were grotesquely purple and puffed out like they were holding their breath. Anna was struck by a sudden thought, and she looked around in a panic before realizing that these weren't the Gladers. They were, in fact, the people who'd rescued them the previous night, and Anna fought the urge to throw up as she looked upon the very dead faces of the people they'd talked to just the night before. She hurried over to the door that led to the boys' room, and yanked off her shoe so she could bash the doorknob off. Her hands were trembling as she hit the knob with her shoe and it clattered to the floor. She pushed the door open, revealing the Gladers standing inside, staring at her with a mixture of fear and relief on their faces. Newt was the first to rush forward, embracing Anna and then stepping back to look at her, Aris, and the room behind them.

"We thought you were somebody come to kill us all," Newt said breathlessly. "Gosh, Anna, you scared me." Anna smiled slightly and looked around at the other Gladers.

"Guys, this is Aris," she said, gesturing to him. "I don't know where he came from."

"Where the shuck is Teresa?" Thomas asked. "She was talking to me during the night; she said something was wrong."

Anna was momentarily confused, but then remembered that Teresa and Thomas had that freaky mind thing going on.

"I don't know," she answered. "Somebody came and took her during the night. Then Aris showed up."

Thomas looked slightly panicky.

"What if she needs help?" he fretted. "What if they're hurting her?"

"Relax, Tommy," Newt said. "I'm sure she's fine. And anyway, she can fend for herself. She's tough."

Thomas, though he nodded, still seemed worried.

"Look, Greenie," said Anna, though she now used the term as more of a nickname than an insult. "We'll find her eventually. For now, we just need to figure out what's going on."

"Right," Newt said, turning around to face the Gladers. As he did so, his long hair shifted to the left slightly and Anna could see something dark peeking through the back of his shirt.

"Newt," she said. "What the shuck is that on your back?"

Newt looked over at her, momentarily confused. Then he seemed to understand, and he nodded.

"They gave us all bloody tattoos," he said. "I dunno how they did it without us noticing, but we've all got one. You probably do, too."

"Do I?" Anna asked, turning around and moving her hair aside.

"Yeah," Newt replied. "It says, _Subject A6—The Variable._ "

"The what now?" Anna asked.

"Well, I'm the bloody Glue, so I wouldn't be complaining," Newt said.

"And mine says that Group B is gonna kill me," Thomas added. "You should be grateful."

Anna was very confused.

"Group B?" she asked. Aris, to her surprise, nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "My group. I don't know where they went."

"Alright, we seriously need to discuss things with you, shank," Anna sighed. "You seem to know stuff that we don't. So start talking."

Aris frowned.

"Why me?" he asked.

"Just quit whining and explain, shuckface!"

Aris seemed offended, and maybe a bit intimidated, but he began to talk.

"Well, I don't know much more than you do," he said. "But all I know is that I woke up in a maze with a bunch of girls, and I was the only guy there. They didn't trust me, and the only one who I really made friends with was named Rachel. We eventually got out of the Maze, and we got to this weird-looking room, and…" Aris's voice began to sound choked. "And this girl called Beth, who'd gone completely nuts a couple days before, threw a—a knife—at Rachel. She died in front of me. Then we got taken here, and just when I thought we'd be safe, I was taken from my group in the middle of the night and the next thing I knew I was in a room with you." He gestured at Anna. "That's it, I swear."

Anna frowned.

"Okay. Then I guess we should focus on finding food. That should be our priority for now."

The Gladers nodded in consent, and they split up to go see if somebody had left them food lying around. Their search was fruitless, though, and they returned very discouraged.

"Hey, it'll be alright guys," Anna said, trying to sound confident. "They brought us here, didn't they? If they wanted to kill us, they would have done it before instead of letting us starve."

The Gladers didn't seem very reassured, but it was the best that Anna could do at the moment.

The next couple days were spent lying around in their room, very rarely speaking to one another. They weren't able to find food anywhere, and the group of seventeen Gladers grew weaker and weaker as the days passed. Anna didn't even try to motivate them, because she herself had fallen into a lethargic state of lying sprawled on a mattress, daydreaming about food. She tried to sleep most of the time, but found it hard to relax when she constantly felt like she was about to faint from hunger.

On the third day, Anna was roused from the state of half-sleep that she'd been in by a murmur of noise from the other Gladers. She sat up, her head spinning from just that small effort. She stood up laboriously and walked to where a group of five or so Gladers had gathered by the door, peering out into the large room on the other side. She pushed to the front of the group so she could see better. Anna's eyebrows shot up about an inch as she ogled the large pile of an apparently random selection of food ranging from apples to trail mix.

"Shuck," she murmured in awe. "They didn't decide to kill us after all."


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey again!**

 **Sorry that the updates have been sort of far apart lately, but I've been busy and haven't had time to write or update. Hopefully I'll be able to post another chapter this weekend or Monday.**

 **Bye!**

 **\- Plerfstacks :)**

Chapter 2

Anna and the group of five Gladers wasted no time in eating until they vomited, and then eating more. Anna tried to pace herself, but she'd been starving for the past three days and she couldn't stop stuffing her face once she'd started. She only realized her mistake when she sprinted to the bathroom with her hand pressed over her mouth and puked her guts out. When she returned from this, she tried to establish some order in the group, and once she'd done that, she went to go wake the other still-lethargic Gladers (and Aris, whom she'd begun thinking of as part her own group). She grabbed a granola bar and held it in front of Newt's face, and she smirked when his eyes flew open in less than two seconds.

"Where the shuck did you get that?" he asked, already having taken it from her and shoved it in his mouth. Anna grinned.

"Someone put a bunch of food on the table out there," she answered. "Don't go eating too much or you'll hurl all over the place like I did."

Newt apparently didn't heed her warning, because a minute or so after he went to investigate their new bounty, he made the same mad dash for the bathroom that Anna had, his hand clamped over his mouth in the same way as hers had been. When he rejoined Anna, his face slightly tinged with green, she couldn't help but say _I told you so._

About five minutes after they'd discovered their new food supply, one of the Gladers walked up to Anna with a confused look on his face.

"Who the shuck is that guy?" he asked. Anna looked to where he was pointing, puzzled as to what he was talking about, but she almost immediately noticed a guy in a white suit reading a book, with his feet propped up on a desk. His face looked remarkably rodent-like, and Anna was struck with the mental image of a large rat sitting in a chair.

"I don't know," she replied, shrugging. "Let's go see what he wants." Anna walked over to where the rat guy was sitting, but when she was about to reach his desk, her face crashed into a hard, seemingly invisible wall. She jerked her head back, her nose immediately starting to trickle blood down her face. She wiped this off with her sleeve and approached the wall more carefully, knocking on it with her fist instead of running headlong into it. The dude on the other side glanced up at her with an annoyed expression on his face.

"Please stop that, Miss Winlock. I'll speak to you when it's time."

Anna recoiled at his condescending tone; never having been spoken to that way before. She also noticed that the guy knew her name, or at least the scientist's name that she was named after. Anna didn't say anything about this, but instead shot the guy a glare and backed away from his desk. The man sniffed loudly and stuck his long nose back in his book. Anna walked back to the group.

"I see you've met Rat Man," Minho said loudly from behind her. Anna turned around to face him, smirking.

"That's a fitting nickname," she commented.

"I know," Minho replied, grinning.

"I'm gonna go get Thomas," he said after a second. "I don't think he's up." He turned and left, and Anna went to go find somebody else to talk to.

"Newt," she called. He looked over at her, smiling. She walked over and rested her elbow on his shoulder, despite him being about two inches taller than she was. He didn't shake her arm off, however, and instead turned his head to face her.

"Long time, no see," he said. Anna laughed.

"I couldn't stay away," she gushed, batting her eyelashes playfully.

"Well, I'm here now, my lady," Newt replied, removing her arm from his shoulder and taking her hand. Anna grinned, and as she did so, she was reminded of how she and Newt used to do this sort of stupid thing in the Glade together. She refused to feel nostalgic, however, and remained smiling as they stood in amiable silence. Anna realized that she was holding a crumpled-up cellophane wrapper of some sort, and crinkled it between her fingers absently. Anna was startled to feel Newt's hand twitch and let go of her own suddenly.

"What's up?" Anna asked, glancing over at him. Newt cringed.

"That bloody noise," he gasped. "Don't _do_ that!"

Anna looked at him, very confused.

"What noise?" she asked, squinting at him.

Newt pointed to the balled-up piece of cellophane that Anna was holding.

"That," he said. Anna laughed.

"Shuck," she replied, grinning. "I had no idea you were one of those people that freak out when you hear certain noises."

Newt laughed and shrugged.

"Neither did I," he replied. "Until right now."

Anna and Newt fell silent once more, and Anna was distracted by Thomas walking in wide-eyed with Minho, and eating a substantial amount of food in less than ten seconds. Minho looked like he was advising him to stop, and Thomas (unlike Newt), listened to the advice he was given. He then walked to the invisible barrier and ran into it just like Anna had. Anna burst out laughing before she could stop herself, and Newt looked at her incredulously.

"What're you laughing about?" he asked, his brow knitting. Anna pointed at the very confused Thomas, who was talking with Minho.

"He ran into the wall like I did," she said. "I'm laughing because now I feel less stupid about it."

The Rat Man, as Minho had dubbed him, didn't say anything until all the Gladers had been in the room for at least twenty minutes. He just sat there behind his desk, absorbed in whatever he was reading. It must have been riveting, because he always seemed very annoyed when he was disturbed. When he did start talking, however, Anna wished he'd shut up again, because most of what he had to say wasn't very cheery.

To sum it up, every one of the Gladers was infected with the Flare, and they would be going nuts and trying to eat people very soon. Their mission was to get the cure for themselves, which was waiting for them at the other side of someplace called the Scorch. The Gladers would be leaving for the Scorch the next morning at six o'clock sharp through something called a Flat Trans. Anna didn't even ask what _that_ meant, because she was very overwhelmed by the other information.

"What if we don't want to go to the shucking Scorch?" Minho shouted above the murmur of speech throughout the crowd. Rat Man gave Minho a cold smile.

"Well," he replied, his beady eyes fixed on Minho's face. "I'm sure that something _very_ unpleasant will happen to anyone who chooses to stay behind. We don't want that, now do we?"

Minho scowled, but said nothing. Anna couldn't help but feel slightly impressed that Rat Man had the ability to shut Minho up, a feat which she'd never fully mastered. Putting this thought aside, she glanced back at the Rat Man, who turned around and walked through the wall. Anna blinked, unsure of what she'd just witnessed. After a second, though, she accepted this as a part of her ridiculous life, and thought nothing of it.

The Gladers dispersed throughout the room, and Anna drifted towards Newt, Minho, and Thomas.

"Hey," she said casually, as if some guy hadn't just come to tell them that they were all gonna go insane and then walked through a wall. Newt and Minho murmured replies, and Thomas nodded.

"What'd you think of the Rat Man?" Minho asked calmly after a second. "I personally hated his guts."

"Yep," Anna agreed. "But I guess we've got to do what he says, right? Or we'll turn into psycho zombies that want to eat people's faces."

"That would be bad," Newt agreed. "So we're gonna go through the Flat thing—whatever he said—tomorrow morning?"

"Yeah," Anna replied resignedly. "I think if we don't—well, let's just say that they don't seem to have a problem with killing us off."

Anna woke up at about four the next morning and couldn't go back to sleep. Instead, she lay on her back staring up at the ceiling until she heard the other Gladers walking around. She rolled off of her bed and peered out the door at the place where Rat Man's desk had been the day before. There was nothing there, no sign of a Flat Trans, whatever the shuck that was.

"C'mon, guys," Anna said, opening the door wider. "We should get ready for that Flat Trans that the dude mentioned."

The Gladers filed out the door and into the room on the other side, where they waited for something to happen. Anna was just wondering whether they had to actually _do_ something to make it happen when a blank rectangle of gray static appeared in front of them.

"That has to be it," Newt said, the dull light of the Flat Trans causing his hair to glow slightly. Anna nodded in agreement.

"I'll go first, then?" she asked nervously, though trying not to show it. Nobody answered, so she stepped through the gray surface of the Flat Trans. Anna experienced a strange, brief sensation of being whisked away quickly, and then found herself in a pitch-black room of some sort. She blinked, trying to get used to the lack of light, but the darkness was so thick that she couldn't even see her own hands in front of her. Suddenly, somebody appeared behind her and stumbled onto her, grasping at her shoulders for support.

"Whoa," Anna said, trying to help. "Who're you?"

"I'm bloody Newt," he replied, trying to sound annoyed, but with an obvious note of laughter in his voice. "Gosh, I'd think you'd recognize me when I trip all over you."

"Well, if you haven't noticed, I can't see a shuck thing."

"That makes two of us, then."

Anna was about to say something else when another Glader came through the Flat Trans, followed by another, followed by another. They seemed to be gaining confidence on the other side, and the room was soon packed with people.

"Alright, let's get organized," Anna called. "Count off. I'll start. One!"

"Two," yelled another Glader. They continued in this manner, with new people showing up every few moments, until someone who sounded like Thomas flopped klutzily onto the floor in front of them, and multiple Gladers stumbled over him.

"What's going on?" Thomas asked.

"Well, we _were_ nice and organized until you came flying in here like a limp fish," Anna said, though not with the spite that had filled her voice before, when she'd first met Thomas. "Let's start over. One!"

"Two!" somebody offered after an awkward silence. Once they got to eighteen, the Gladers fell silent and Anna could tell that quite a few of them were staring at her, even with the darkness that surrounded them.

"Uh," Anna muttered, tugging on the end of her long braid. "I guess we should just—"

She was interrupted by a voice coming scratchily through a speaker somewhere.

 _"Go back,"_ it rasped in a voice that Anna could only describe as being really, really creepy. _"Go back now, or you'll be sliced."_

"Sliced?" Anna asked. "What the shuck?"

 _"Turn back,"_ the speaker said again. Or maybe there was an actual creepy dude in the room with them right at that moment; Anna wasn't sure.

"We aren't gonna turn back," Minho replied. "If you haven't noticed, Mr. Creepy Slinthead, the Flat Trans is gone now."

 _"You're all dead. Dead and sliced,"_ the voice said. Then the room went silent and Anna was filled with a cold, ominous feeling.

"Well," she said with false lightheartedness. "That was cheery."


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello!**

 **I am soooo sorry for the late updates lately! I haven't gotten super far into the story's plot yet, and I'm still having trouble transitioning from the Maze Runner to the Scorch Trials. Hopefully I'll be able to update more frequently as I get more into the storyline. Here's chapter 3 for you!**

 **\- Plerfstacks :)**

Chapter 3

Anna was on edge as the Gladers walked through the pitch-dark hallway leading who-knows-where. They had formed a disorganized line, with some people single-file and some standing next to two or three people. Minho was in front, and Anna and Newt followed behind him.

Anna felt her hand being grasped by somebody else's, and she instinctively whipped her head to the side before realizing that for one thing, she couldn't see anything, and for another, she knew that the person standing next to her was Newt. She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze, unsure whether he'd made that gesture for her benefit or his own.

Suddenly, a very loud commotion broke out somewhere behind Anna. There was a loud clanking noise, and a noise of surprise, and then the same voice crescendoed until it was screaming. Anna let go of Newt's hand and tried to fight her way over to whoever was yelling, but apparently Thomas got there first. He was shouting at the boy who seemed to be being attacked by something, and after a second, his shrieks subsided and were replaced by a strange noise sounding a bit like a bowling ball rolling on the floor.

"What's going on?" Anna asked urgently. Thomas, breathing heavily, scrambled to his feet.

"I don't know," he said, his voice tinged with something like insane panic. "There was a big metal ball, and a ton of blood, and—and—"

"Spit it out, why don't you, Tommy!" Newt shouted. Thomas inhaled shakily.

"His shucking head. It was eaten by a big metal ball."

"Excuse me?" Minho asked. "How could an inanimate object _eat_ someone's head?"

Thomas didn't reply, but Anna heard someone yell from about ten feet down the hallway,

"I found something!"

Anna turned towards the voice.

"What?" she pressed. "What did you find?"

The boy walked over to Anna and shoved the object into her arms.

"That thing," he replied. "I don't know what it is."

Anna buckled under the unexpected weight of the thing, but regained her balance as she began to analyze the round sphere that she was holding. It seemed to be about the size of a human head, if human heads were perfectly round. It was slick with something sticky that absolutely reeked, and Anna felt her stomach rise into her throat as she realized that it was blood. She looked around, though she couldn't see anything.

"It's a metal ball," she confirmed. "I guess this was what that creepy guy meant when he said _dead and sliced._ Be careful."

With that, the Gladers kept walking, despite the new threat of head-eating metal balls. As they went, two more of them were eaten by the awful things, and Anna didn't even stop to investigate, though she felt like a horrible person for leaving the dying people lying on the ground.

After a long while, Anna heard a _thump_ from in front of her as Minho cursed loudly.

"What happened?" Anna asked.

"We've reached the end," he said flatly.

"How can you bloody know that?" Newt asked. Minho gave an exasperated sigh.

"Because I just broke my legs on a staircase, that's why. I'm gonna go up."

Before Anna could say anything, the sound of Minho's shoes thumping on the stairs filled the silence, and she waited with bated breath for him to reach the top.

"Here it is," Minho called down to them. Without warning, the brightest light that Anna had ever encountered shone down on the Gladers, who all yelped in surprise and pain as their eyeballs were fried. Minho shut the door.

"Shuck it," he said breathlessly. "That was a door."

"Good observation, Minho," Anna deadpanned, trying to blink the spots out of her vision. "Open it slower this time."

Minho opened the hatch just a crack and held it open with a donated t-shirt from one of the Gladers.

"We should go up and see what's up there," Newt suggested.

"Yeah," Anna agreed. "I'll go. Newt, Minho, Thomas, you come with me."

Wrapping themselves in sheets to protect themselves from the sun, Anna, Newt, and Thomas ascended the staircase. They met Minho at the top, and he opened the door for them to get through. Anna was once again blinded by the light, but she'd gotten used to it by now, so it was less painful than last time. Minho climbed through the hatch, and Anna followed close behind. Once all four of them had gotten up to the surface, Anna looked around them, shielding her face with one hand.

"It's really hot up here," Thomas noted.

"It is the Scorch, isn't it, shank?" Minho pointed out. "Let's get back down and get the others up here."

Anna, Minho, Thomas, and Newt climbed back down into the tunnel where the other Gladers stood. Anna was about to tell them to start climbing up when a loud commotion began to erupt from the back of the group. By the sliver of light that the door let into the tunnel, Anna could see the Gladers moving backwards from a strange silver blob of something dripping from the ceiling.

"What the shuck is that?" Anna asked in alarm, watching the silver goop grow bigger and bigger until it was hanging like a raindrop above them. Suddenly, it fell sideways (completely ignoring the laws of gravity) and landed directly on Winston. Chaos broke loose, with Winston writhing on the floor trying to get the thing off of his face. Thomas had pushed through the horde of people and was practically wrestling the silver stuff in order to get it off of Winston. There was nothing Anna could do but watch as the two boys tussled with the blob of silver gel for almost a minute. Thomas finally managed to pull it off of Winston's head and throw it far away where it couldn't hurt anyone, but by this time Winston's face was irreparable. By the looks of it, the silver stuff had tried to weld to his face, and now that it was gone, he was covered in blisters and his hair had been burned off. Anna cringed empathetically at the sight of the very traumatized boy sitting up against the wall, but after he had a minute or so to recover, Anna figured that they had to keep moving.

"Alright, someone help Winston up. We need to go up to the surface."

Once they'd managed to get all of the Gladers up onto the sand of the Scorch, Anna turned to face the group.

"You guys packed water, right?" she asked. A couple boys held up hastily-made plastic-bag canteens. Anna nodded. "Good. Don't lose those. Let's start walking, I guess."

Anna realized very early on that she had made a stupid decision. The Gladers, though paired up underneath sheets, were still practically baking in the hot sun. Anna herself felt like she was slowly being charbroiled by the heat waves radiating through the sheet that she shared with Newt. They didn't talk to each other much, simply because it took too much effort. Instead, Anna and Newt walked silently side-by-side and tried not to pant in the heat.

"I've had enough of this," Anna coughed after about three or four hours. "We're stopping to take a break."

"Good idea," Newt replied hoarsely. Anna ducked out from under the sheet, which wasn't helping much anyway.

"Guys, we're taking a break. We'll stay here for twenty minutes or so, and then we'll keep going for a while, at least till it gets dark."

A murmur of relief emanated from the exhausted Gladers as they collapsed in the sand. Anna sat down on the ground beside Newt and tried not to focus on how hot and thirsty she felt.

"I'm starting to wish we were still in the Glade," Anna confessed. "At least it wasn't seven hundred degrees."

Newt gave a small smile and nodded his head.

"Yeah," he agreed. "At least we had running water instead of bloody plastic bags."

"At least we had some idea of what the shuck was going on."

Newt nodded again wistfully, but then he looked over at Anna, as if struck by some thought.

"But now we do know what's going on," he said. "We need to go get the cure for the Flare. We know that for sure. In the Glade we had no idea what the solution was."

"Yeah, good point," Anna sighed. Then, after a moment, "I guess we need to get going now."

Newt groaned, but stood up.

"C'mon guys," Anna said resignedly. "Get up. We should go."

The Gladers got up and began walking again without complaining, (which Anna considered a small miracle, considering how awful she knew they all felt), and they didn't stop till nightfall, when the sun dipped low in the west and the temperature dropped to about half of what it had been before. The Gladers definitely weren't cold, though, by any stretch.

Anna walked up to join Minho and Newt, who were the only ones still awake, despite how exhausted they all were. Minho let out a low whistle as he looked at Anna.

"Shuck it, look at the ginger," he said, his eyes wide. "You look like you've been dropped in a deep-fryer."

"Don't rub it in," Anna muttered. "My stupid red hair. I'm the only one who burned alive."

Newt glanced at her, assessing her sunburn.

"Gosh, Anna," he said after a moment. "That doesn't look fun."

Anna sighed.

"How come us redheads have it so tough?" she griped. Newt gave a gentle smile.

"Hey, it'll probably be gone by tomorrow morning," he assured her, trying to rest his hand on her shoulder.

"Ow," Anna said, cringing away from his touch. Newt pulled his hand away, frowning apologetically.

"Sorry," he said. Anna sighed and nodded.

"I'm gonna go to bed," she said. "See you shanks in the morning."

Anna discovered a few minutes after she tried to fall asleep that it was near impossible for somebody as sunburned as she was to sleep on a sandy sheet. She tossed and turned for what felt like forever before she got up painfully and went to see if anyone else was still awake. Nobody seemed to be, so Anna clumsily navigated her way over to where Newt was fast asleep on his sheet. Trying not to wake him, Anna climbed in next to him and settled her head on his arm. Newt was much less coated in sand than her original spot had been, and Anna had almost managed to doze off when she heard her name being mumbled from beside her.

"Anna?" Newt was murmuring sleepily.

"Sorry," Anna replied. "There was sand on the ground and it was annoying so I came here."

Newt gave a soft laugh, his breath ruffling her hair.

"You're welcome to stay," he whispered, his voice trailing off groggily as he seemed to nod off once more. Anna said nothing, but instead snuggled her head into the crook of Newt's elbow and shut her eyes.

The next morning, Anna woke up and realized two things: One: that her awful shucking sunburn had only gotten worse, and two: that she'd been drooling on Newt's arm while she slept. Anna hastily used her wrist to wipe away the small spot of moisture before Newt woke up, so that was one problem solved. She decided to ignore her blistering skin for now, and focus on getting the Gladers across the Scorch and to the small city that Anna could see in the distance. She sighed and stood up, her entire body screaming in protest.

"Mmm," Newt mumbled as he began to stir. Anna smiled down at him as his brilliant blue eyes opened slightly.

"Morning," she murmured, crouching beside him and stroking his long blond hair.

"Good morning, Anna," Newt replied. "You okay?"

Anna shrugged.

"Well, my skin still feels like it's gonna fall off, but otherwise I'm peachy."

Newt paused for a second.

"I don't know whether you meant for me to laugh or feel sorry for you," Newt admitted. Anna grinned.

"I'd be okay with either."

Newt returned her grin and stood up. Anna straightened into a standing position as well, and the two Gladers looked at each other for a moment, unsure what to do next.

"I guess we'd better get going," Anna said after a moment. "We shouldn't waste time."

"Yeah," Newt replied.

Before either of them could try and rally the Gladers, Anna felt a hand press down on her shoulder from behind.

"Hey, guys," Minho said, letting go of Anna and stepping forward. "You lovebirds never talk to meanymore."

"What don't you understand about _don't shucking touch the poor sunburned redhead,_ Minho?" Anna muttered.

"Sorry 'bout that," Minho replied. He didn't sound very sincere. Anna gave a small laugh and turned to face him.

"We need to get up and go," Anna said. "We should get to that city as soon as possible. Otherwise we might _all_ shucking roast to a crisp." She looked over to see that most of the Gladers had already gotten up and were walking around.

"Hey, guys, we need to go," Anna called. "We shouldn't wait till the sun comes up."

Two minutes later, Anna and the rest of the Gladers started walking towards the city in the distance. It seemed to be about a two days' walk away, and Anna wasn't looking forward to _that._ She was barely managing not to complain loudly and obnoxiously as it was. Anyway, she was only restraining herself for Newt's sake, as the two of them shared one sheet as meager protection from the sun.

The rest of the day was boring. Anna and Newt shared little conversation as they trekked through the Scorch, and the speck on the horizon that was their destination didn't seem to get much bigger as they progressed. The Gladers took two or three breaks for food and water and the like, and Anna was impressed at their lack of complaint at having to hike all day through the sand.

By the end of the day, Anna was beyond exhausted, and could tell that Newt was too, despite the fact that both she and Newt denied it on multiple occasions. Anna had reached the point where she wanted to collapse on the sand about half an hour before she actually stopped, and then it wasn't for her sake. Anna could tell that Newt wasn't doing so hot with his limp and all, so she (not so reluctantly) caved.

Anna spent another uncomfortable night lying on the sand, but her skin was less blistery and nasty by then, so it was bearable. Almost.

The next morning, Anna woke up completely caked with sand. Her sheet was uselessly sitting under the massive pile of grit that had clung to Anna during the night. Anna sighed and brushed it off as well as she could, telling herself that the gritty sand would help her get rid of her sunburn. She roused the Gladers and got moving in about five minutes, not wanting to lose any time sitting around. In the last few mercifully cool hours of dawn, Anna and the Gladers covered quite a bit of ground. When the sun eventually came up, the idea of making it to the city that day seemed almost plausible. That said, Anna wasn't _too_ excited about slogging through the hot sand for another six or seven hours. Anna gritted her teeth, though, and managed not to complain as the Gladers went on their merry way to the city in the distance.

Six hours, twenty pounds of sand, two ten-minute breaks, and three lost sheets later, the Gladers arrived at the city (or at least within a five-minute's walk of it). Anna was planning to keep going for those last five minutes, but out of the corner of her eye she saw a guy sitting close by. She decided to go investigate, and led the group over to their mysterious new friend.

"Um, hello," Anna called. The guy didn't look up. Anna tried again. "Hellooo?" She decided to assume that he was listening, so she went on. "Um, hi. We were just going to go into that city, there. You look like you might be informed on this subject. We could use some advice. On pretty much everything."

Anna quit babbling when the guy looked up at her for the first time. His face was tanned from the sun, and by the looks of it he was seventy or eighty. Or older.

"You're not safe here," he rasped. "There's a storm coming."

"Um, a storm?" Anna asked. "Like a sandstorm?" If she was being completely honest, it didn't look like it was possible for rain to fall in this awful dry desert. The man didn't seem to hear her.

"A storm. A storm's coming." His eyes wandered so they were looking up at the sky, which Anna just noticed had become gray and cloudy.

"It's too late," he spat. "Too late."

Almost as if he'd caused it to happen, a loud clap of thunder resounded through the hot air, causing most of the Gladers to jump in surprise. The sun's blinding light had turned to a shroud of near-darkness. Anna only had time to gape at the new change in scenery before the first bolt of lightning cracked through the air, exploding into the ground just ten or so feet away from the Gladers.

 _"Run!"_ Anna shouted, and she didn't have to tell them twice. All order that they'd previously had dissolved all at once, and was replaced with chaotic running and screaming.

Anna lost Newt and Minho in the frenzy, and at first she looked around frantically for them. She eventually forgot all about Newt and Minho, however, because the deafening noise of the lightning and the yells of the Gladers drowned out all other thoughts. Once or twice somebody who'd been running next to her was blown to bits right before her eyes, and Anna fought the urge to vomit as she avoided looking at their mangled bodies.

The lack of rain made it easier to see where she was going, but not much so. Once Anna found herself stumbling and nearly falling, only to be hauled up by somebody behind her.

Through the noise, Anna vaguely heard somebody saying her name somewhere to her left. She turned to see Thomas standing a couple yards away, waving at her frantically. He seemed to be barely supporting somebody who was leaning heavily against his side, and as Anna came closer she could tell that it was Minho. He looked a wreck. His skin was covered in blisters and his clothes were singed and ripped. Anna didn't even ask what had happened; she just took Minho's other arm and motioned for Thomas to keep moving. Finally, they made it to a small shack on the outskirts of the city, and Anna and Thomas ducked inside before anything else could happen. The two didn't speak to each other, partly because their relationship was still lukewarm, and partly because they were shell-shocked. What remained of the group joined them in the little house after a moment, and nobody spoke to one another as the rain finally began to fall outside.

 **A/N: I can confirm that redheads sunburn really easily, as I am a redhead myself. ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello again!**

 **First of all, I am once again _sooooooooo_ sorry for the crazy long time it's been since I last updated! I promise I'll try my best to update more frequently in the future.**

 **Please feel free to follow/favorite/review! I really appreciate your feedback.**

 **Thanks!**

 **-Plerfstacks :)**

Chapter 4

Anna spent the night huddled against the wall of the building that they'd taken refuge in. She wasn't the only one, either, as nobody seemed to be in the mood for a pep talk. Anna certainly wasn't in the mood to give them one. She was actually completely exhausted, and after just a minute or so of sitting in their new home, Anna found herself drifting off.

Anna sat up groggily from her position against the wall, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She winced slightly as she attempted to unfold herself from the slumped position she'd been in for more than seven hours.

"You alright?" a voice to her left asked. Anna turned to face whoever was talking, and in doing so she practically gave herself whiplash. She groaned softly as she raised a hand to try and alleviate the crick in her neck.

"No, Newt," she replied finally. "No, I'm not." Newt gave her a sympathetic smile.

"Yeah, neither am I," he admitted. "Half of us were bloody blown to smithereens last night, and Minho almost burned to death, and then I slept pressed against a wall and now I probably can't stand up."

Anna cringed sympathetically.

"I forgot about your limp," she said. "Think you'll be okay?"

Newt nodded resignedly.

"I have to be, don't I?" he pointed out. "Can't go whining about my shucking stiff leg when Minho's burnt to a crisp."

"Uh… I guess so," Anna admitted. She didn't know what to say next, so she and Newt fell silent until Thomas spoke up.

"Hey," he said sleepily. "How long've you two been up?" Anna turned to face him.

"Five minutes or so," she replied. "Not long."

"We need to figure out what we should do next," Newt decided. "We can't just sit in this house all day."

"I wouldn't mind it," Thomas admitted. "At least we're not being fried or exploded or sliced with head-eating bowling balls."

Anna had to admit he had a point. Newt had other ideas, though.

"If we stay here, we'll all turn into bloody Flare zombies. We're here to find the cure, if you don't remember, Tommy."

Thomas frowned.

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I just—"

"What're you shanks talking about without me?" Minho asked from the floor. He turned his head so he was facing the ceiling. "I'm always left out of stuff."

"Shut up, shank," Anna laughed. "You were _sleeping._ "

"Good point," Minho replied, wincing as he hauled himself into a sitting position.

"You don't look great," Newt commented as he looked at Minho.

"Thanks for noticing," Minho replied.

"What even _happened_ to you?" Anna asked.

"He got hit by lightning," Thomas responded for Minho. "I don't know how it didn't blow him up."

Anna gaped at them for a second before speaking again.

 _"Lightning?"_ she asked incredulously. "I don't believe that for a second."

"It's true," Minho confirmed. Anna frowned.

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't explode," she said after a second.

"Yes, I make it a practice to feel grateful every day that I haven't exploded lately," Minho replied. "I find it very refreshing."

"Shut your hole," Anna laughed.

"I'm just saying it how it is."

"Alright, enough with the small talk, you two," Newt said. "We need to figure out what to do."

"First step is food," Anna replied. "We lost a lot in the storm. And water, too. I'm pretty sure that most of our water was spilled in the process of running for our lives."

"Then we need to get going soon," Thomas pointed out. "We don't want to starve half to death like last time."

"Alright, then I guess we should wake everyone up and—"

Newt was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice from above them.

"You need food? We've got food."

Anna whipped around in the general direction of the mysterious voice. Peering through a hole in the ceiling was a young man with messy black hair and a slightly worrying glint in his eyes. Anna and the others didn't even have time to stand up before he'd dropped to the floor amidst them.

"Hello," Anna said cautiously. "Who are you?"

"My name's Jorge. I run this group of Cranks," he replied, sticking his hand out for her to shake. He still had that _look_ in his eyes, though, and that alone prevented Anna from grasping his hand. She nodded in greeting instead.

"Anna," she replied. "You say you have food?"

"That's right, _hermana,"_ Jorge said. "If you'll behave yourselves, we've got plenty. You're the leader of your group?"

Anna nodded.

"Yeah. What do you mean, _behave ourselves_?"

"Oh, you know, the usual thing. Don't try anything funny, or I'll be forced to overpower you and then slowly kill you one by one until the only one left is the one who caused the trouble in the first place."

Anna blinked, unsure whether this man was completely sane. _Of course he's not,_ she realized abruptly. _He's a Crank._ Anna was about to say something else when Minho spoke up.

"Why the shuck would we try and _behave ourselves_ when there're eleven of us and one of you? Seems like _you_ should be the one behaving yourself."

Jorge looked at Minho with a blank expression.

"You had better apologize right now," he said calmly, the off-putting glint in his eyes much more obvious now. He began to count down from ten. When Minho didn't say anything, Jorge kicked his leg. Anna gave a stifled gasp of surprise as Minho cried out and clutched at his burnt and blistered calf. Choking out a reluctant apology, Minho sat up shakily. Jorge smirked smugly, but the look was wiped off his face as Minho's foot swung around and hit Jorge in the back of the leg, knocking him off balance and giving Minho the opportunity to jump on top of him. Anna and Newt simultaneously ran forward and dragged Minho off of Jorge, but as he stood up, Anna could tell that it was too late. His expression was full of murderous, barely contained rage, and Anna wasn't sure if she could do anything.

"You shouldn't have done that, _muchacho."_

"Hold on," Anna stepped in. "Let's just settle this in a civil, orderly—"

"Oh, civil and orderly, _hermana?"_ Jorge interrupted her. "Alright, then. Let's you and me have a _civil and orderly_ chat about what I'm gonna do with your friend, here."

Anna was suddenly very nervous. She did _not,_ under any circumstances, want to be alone with this mentally unstable man and try to discuss how to resolve an argument. Anna looked around and realized that she was the only one who could really serve as a diplomat, as she had already told Jorge that she was the leader.

"Alright, then," she replied. "I guess I don't have a choice."

"No, you don't," Jorge agreed, his tone tinged with malice. He clapped his hands once, and Anna jumped as thirty or so people leapt from the ceiling and landed around the group.

"Brenda, you watch these kids," Jorge said. "We'll only be a minute."

A tall girl with a light brown ponytail gave a nod at Jorge, and Anna could only assume that she was Brenda.

Anna took a deep breath and followed Jorge down the hall. He stopped at the end of the hallway and folded his arms across his chest.

"What do you say, _muchacha?"_ Jorge said. "What do you want me to do with them?"

"Look," Anna said, trying to sound rational. "We don't need much. All we want is some food and possibly other supplies, and then we'll leave. You said that you've got plenty."

"Ah, but I said that I'd only give it to you if you proved yourselves," Jorge reminded her. "If I'm not mistaken, your friend ruined that for all of you."

"I'll talk to him," Anna promised.

"Talk to him?" Jorge repeated, cocking an eyebrow. "No. I don't want you to talk to him. Let me kill him and we have a deal."

Anna froze. She wasn't gonna let Jorge kill Minho, that was for sure. But she wasn't sure how to get out of the situation.

"No," she said. "No, you can't kill him. I'd rather leave without the supplies."

"From the looks of it, you'll die anyway. And besides, we have the run of this city. We'll find you."

"Look, there has to be a deal we can make or something," Anna said desperately. Jorge frowned thoughtfully.

"Alright, _muchacha,"_ he replied slowly after a moment, an evil spark in his eye. "You go back and join your group. I'll tell you later what I plan to do with your disrespectful friend."

Anna did not like the sound of that. She nodded, however, and backed away slowly. Once she was out of the dark hallway, she turned around and rejoined the other Gladers.

"What did he say?" Newt asked her immediately.

"I persuaded him not to kill Minho, but he is gonna do _something_ to him _._ He hasn't told me what it is."

"I'm not scared of that shank," Minho said. Anna wheeled around and glared at him.

"Yeah? Well, you should be. He's a shucking Crank, and he's capable of killing us all without batting an eyelash. I suggest you shut your shuck trap and be thankful that _I_ _just saved your butt."_

Minho looked surprised at Anna for snapping at him like that, and apparently she'd shocked him enough that he obeyed her. By this time, Jorge had joined the rest of the group.

"Alright," he said. "Brenda, you and I will take these kids upstairs and give them some food. The rest of you, go away."

The Cranks dispersed, and Jorge and Brenda began shepherding the Gladers up the stairs. Anna didn't know why, but she immediately disliked Brenda. She didn't even know why. Something about her rubbed Anna the wrong way. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that she kept sidling up beside Thomas on the way up, and how she sat with the side of her body practically pressed up against Thomas, who looked vaguely uncomfortable. Though Anna had never liked Thomas much, this still bothered her.

Anna silently glared at Brenda across the room as she ate room-temperature sausages and beans from a can. Jorge was seated across from her and was looking bored. He spoke up suddenly.

"What is your group trying to do out here in the Scorch, anyway?" he asked. "There's nothing for you here."

"Well, we were told by WICKED that we were able to find a cure out here, so that's where we're going," Anna replied coolly. Jorge's expression went abruptly from unimpressed to interested.

"A cure?" he asked. "Why didn't you say something?" Anna shrugged. Jorge tilted his head to the side.

"You know, _hermana,_ if you were to take Brenda and myself with you to this so-called cure, I may or may not forget about what I was planning to do to your friend over there."

Anna frowned.

"I don't know if WICKED will let you two have it," she replied. "But if you want to, then I guess…"

"Alright," Jorge said. "It's settled."

Their conversation was cut off as Jorge suddenly stood up, jerking his head to the side, and gestured for Brenda to come over. She reluctantly got up from her a-little-too-friendly position next to Thomas and walked to where Jorge was standing. The two of them exchanged whispers for a moment before Anna became aware of the sound of concrete crumbling and wood splintering. She jumped to her feet, tugging Newt up with her, and glanced wildly around at the rapidly collapsing building before realizing that the only way to go was down. She ran for the staircase on pure instinct, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Minho, Aris, Newt, and the others going in the same direction as she was. The group of Gladers ran down into a hallway, where Jorge grabbed a door handle and yanked it open, revealing a bright strip of sunlight. He and Anna made sure the whole group was through before heading out themselves, and they ran for fifty yards or so before turning back. The building was practically rubble, and Anna shivered at the thought of being stuck under all that.

As she turned to face the others, Anna realized that they were missing two of their number.

"Thomas and Brenda," she said hollowly. "Where are Thomas and Brenda?"

"Still in there, I guess," Jorge said, and despite his nonchalance, his expression made it clear that he was worried. "Brenda's a tough girl. She'll get them out of it."

Anna nodded.

"Is everyone okay?" she asked. There were a few muttered replies, mostly "no," but nobody seemed to be seriously injured.

Anna decided that the group should keep moving, in case the person who'd blown up the building they'd been in before wanted to come back. The group didn't protest, so Anna and Jorge led them away from the city. They went in the direction that WICKED had instructed the Gladers to walk so long ago, and nobody said anything as they trekked through the sand towards their goal.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey everyone! I'm finally back after like two months!**

 **I know I keep saying this, but I really will try to upload more frequently. I'm currently working on chapter six, so keep an eye out!**

 **Thanks to everyone who favorited/followed/reviewed! It means a lot to me.**

 **Enjoy the chapter!**

 **\- Plerfstacks :)**

Chapter 5

Anna couldn't help but be a little bit annoyed that Jorge had stepped in as leader of the group, effectively booting her out of the top position. They instead worked as a team to solve problems, and Anna wasn't sure if she liked it. She was used to having Newt around, who, though he helped out quite a bit, was still a rank lower than she was. Poor Newt had been kicked out of all authority whatsoever, and while he didn't complain, Anna could tell that he felt slightly put off.

After about thirty years of walking in silence, Anna was going a little bit nuts. She and Newt hadn't spoken a word to each other since they'd started trudging through the city, and the heat and silence and exhaustion and thirst was starting to take control of Anna's mind.

"I can't shucking do this anymore," she finally said, stopping in her tracks.

"We're stopping to rest. This city is too big to completely explore in one day."

There was a general murmur of appreciation at her words, and even Jorge didn't protest as the Gladers ducked into a small building to rest. The sun was going down, and soon the group was shrouded in darkness, the only light coming from a flickering light bulb hanging from a string on the ceiling. Newt was completely out cold long before the sun went down, and his head rested on Anna's shoulder as she sat hunched against the hard wall. Anna's eyelids were heavy as she stared into the darkness of the room, and she felt her eyes shutting almost against her will. The only thing that Anna was aware of as she drifted off was the warm, familiar weight of Newt's body against her own.

The next morning, Anna didn't want to get up. She knew she had to, what with their dire situation and all that, as Newt would no doubt remind her when he woke up, but that didn't mean she had to be happy about it. Anna leaned her head back against the hard cement wall and closed her eyes, willing sleep to come to her once more. She had almost drifted off when she was jolted awake when Newt lifted his head off of her shoulder and sat up, brushing his long blond hair out of his face.

"Did I wake you?" he asked softly, turning to face Anna. She shook her head.

"Not really," she answered. She blinked blearily and gave Newt a small smile. Newt returned it, leaning forward and pressing his lips against Anna's after a moment. She shut her eyes and allowed herself just a moment to enjoy the precious time she shared with Newt, which she cherished if only in the very early morning, when they were always the first two to wake up.

Newt pulled away after a few seconds, looking at Anna through half-closed lids, his long blond eyelashes glittering in the early-morning sun. Anna would've been happy to sit there with him forever, but she knew she couldn't stay in her fantasy world forever. She sighed and sat up straighter.

"We need to get the others up," Newt said, voicing Anna's thoughts. He looked as reluctant as she felt. She nodded.

"Guys," she whispered. "Hey. Get up, you lazy shucks."

There was a murmur of confusion and annoyance as the Gladers tried to bend themselves out of the uncomfortable positions they'd held for the past twelve hours.

"What do you want, Anna?" Minho groaned.

"We're getting up. We need to get the shuck out of this city, and I want to try and do it today. No complaining."

As it turned out, the Gladers were much better at following her instructions than she'd thought they would be. None of them spoke even a single word for at least six hours of walking through the decrepit city in the beating hot sun. Anna was growing worried, however, that their silence was due to weakness and dehydration, because they were running on a dangerously low water supply. The group of ten Gladers—and Jorge—only had one bottle left from the building that they'd found the Cranks in. Anna persevered, but it became painfully apparent that they were slowing down. She could hear Newt's ragged breathing from beside her, and she was sure that hers was just as audible. Anna finally caved and allowed a break when she glanced over at Newt and discovered that he looked very close to passing out.

The group rested in another building, which was just as broken and old as the others. Anna sat against the wall, and Newt was slumped next to and on top of her. His blond head was pressed against Anna's shoulder, and she reached up to stroke his sweaty hair with her fingertips. He was still panting heavily; Anna could feel his chest heaving. She was worried about him. He seemed the worst off of all the Gladers, and Anna attributed this to the extra exertion he had to use simply to place one foot in front of the other.

Anna rearranged herself so she cradled Newt's head in her lap like a child as she combed her fingers gently through his hair. After a while of this, Anna began to notice that Newt's skin was becoming abnormally warm against her own, and her forehead creased in concern as she stared down at him. He'd fallen asleep a little while ago, and his hair and face were still sticky with sweat, despite the fact that the other Gladers had mostly cooled off by that point in the shade of the roof above their heads. Anna pressed her palm against Newt's forehead to find that he was burning with fever, worse than she'd thought.

"Jorge?" Anna called softly. "Can you come here?"

The young man turned his head to face her.

"What is it?" he asked, standing up and walking over to where Anna sat. He knelt on the floor beside her. "Is something wrong?"

Anna gestured to Newt.

"He's not okay," she said. "I think it's heat exhaustion or something."

Jorge nodded.

"Could be. I wouldn't be surprised."

Anna glared at him and his nonchalance. He spoke so carelessly about the life and well-being of her best friend. She tried to keep her voice even as she spoke.

"What do we do, shuckface? Quit acting so calm and detached."

"There's not a lot we _can_ do, _hermana,_ until we find some water and someplace that isn't scorching hot."

"Well, it's the _Scorch,_ for shuck's sake!" Anna cried. "How do you propose we find someplace that isn't hot?"

"We need to find more people. Other Cranks who haven't quite reached the Gone. They might have the stuff we need."

This was as close to a plan as they'd ever get, so Anna agreed to go along with it.

"What do we do?" she asked. Jorge frowned.

"We've just got to keep walking. Given our water supply, it's in our best interest to begin sooner than later. We don't want anyone else incapacitated."

Anna nodded in agreement.

"Let's go, then," she said. She looked down at Newt, whose eyes had half-closed. "Newt, I need you to get up. We're gonna try and find water for you, okay?"

Newt moaned softly, his forehead creasing as he struggled to sit up. Anna felt a pang of empathy as she helped him into a sitting position; one of her arms was wrapped around him in an effort to hold him up. She looked to Jorge for help.

"I can't carry him," she said. "You need to help me."

Jorge nodded, and he crouched on the floor beside Anna and hauled Newt up into his arms like he weighed nothing. Newt didn't protest this arrangement, but maybe it was because he obviously wasn't all that aware of what was going on. Anna stood up and turned to face the group at large, as they'd begun looking at her in confusion and curiosity.

"Alright, guys, change of plans," she said. "Newt's sick—we're gonna go find some other people to see if they can help us out."

"Why are we dropping everything for Newt?" asked one of the Gladers—Jackson— in an annoyed tone. "We didn't do a shuck thing when Winston was practically eaten by a metal ball."

Anger clouded Anna's vision as she strode over to the irritated boy and moved towards him so her face was inches from his.

"We did all that we could for Winston, and you shucking know it. We'd do the same for you, slinthead, if you were in Newt's place right now. So shut your hole and keep your thoughts to yourself."

Anna turned away from the slightly shocked Jackson and looked around at the others.

"We all good? Nobody else want to complain? Good. Then I suggest we go."

Anna could tell that many of the Gladers shared Jackson's point of view in this situation. They were looking around at each other with expressions that very clearly said that they weren't sure that Anna was acting for the greater good in a completely objective manner. Anna ignored them, however, because she had bigger things to handle. She led the group outside, and they began their search for other Cranks who might help them.

Their efforts were fruitless, as all they were able to find were about twenty more abandoned buildings, with the occasional half-dead Crank staggering around with a decent portion of their face missing. Anna refused to give up, though, and she kept the group moving from building to building until they came across one that seemed to be inhabited by a large number of people—based on the amount of noise coming from inside. Anna shushed the Gladers and motioned for them to stay there while she checked out the situation.

Anna walked cautiously forward towards the front entrance of the building. There was a woman standing there with a screwdriver, accompanied by two men with similarly lethal-looking weapons. Anna didn't want anything to do with them, so she backed away quietly, hoping no one would notice her. She rejoined the group on the other side of the wall, shaking her head.

"There're three people out there—they've all got weapons. We need to go around the back and see if there's another way in."

The group murmured their agreement and, as silently as they could, walked around to the back of the building. Anna shushed them again and crept over to the back door, which was unlocked, surprisingly enough. She figured it was because they thought the screwdriver lady was enough security for anyone. She motioned for the Gladers to go through. Once she was inside, it was a whole lot louder than it had been outside. There was a shrieking background noise that Anna assumed had to be music, and the sound of many people talking at once. She realized that, because of the noise, she didn't need to worry about talking too loudly to the others. The only thing she was concerned about was the fact that anyone could just walk right into the room and the Gladers wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Anna fixed the problem by shoving a table in front of the door, and then turned back to face the others.

"We need to see if they have any supplies here. I don't think they want to help us, based on the fact that they put three armed Cranks at the front door and it sounds like they're having a loud, drunk party in there. Our only option is to take the place over. We're gonna wait till later, when they'll all be either hung-over, passed out, or too drunk to know what's going on. Then we can get them to give us what we need."

"Aren't you worried about how the drunk Cranks aren't gonna like it that we're trying to crash their party?" asked Minho. "It's eleven—well, ten now—of us against who-knows-how-many of them."

"That's why we're gonna wait. We can't go in there now—it's too risky. We'll wait till morning, or at least late enough that they've stopped partying."

Minho nodded.

"I guess," he said, shrugging. "You're the boss."

The next couple hours were torture. Anna spent them dealing with a completely delirious Newt, who kept babbling nonsensical things that Anna pretended to understand. She also had to deal with her own exhaustion and thirst as well as his, because she had come to terms with the fact that she wasn't much better off than Newt was. If their plan didn't work, Anna wasn't sure what she'd do.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the noises of the Cranks' party dimmed and Anna realized that it was time to start whatever they were planning to do. She stood up and motioned for the Gladers to follow her. She grabbed her switchblade and held it close, hoping she wouldn't need it. The Gladers removed the table and crept through the door, leaving Newt behind with Jorge, and finding themselves in a large room filled with the last few drunk stragglers at the party. The others had presumably left to go do whatever the shuck it was that Cranks liked to do in their free time. Anna and the Gladers overtook the place pretty easily; the Cranks just listened to them and did whatever they told them to do. The Gladers gathered all the Cranks that they could find into one room, assuring them that there would be trouble if they tried to pull anything.

Minho strode over to where Anna stood, raking his hair out of his eyes with his fingers.

"I'm gonna go scout around," he said. "See if they've got anything useful."

"Good," Anna replied. "I'll stay here and watch the others."

Anna walked to the other side of the room where Newt was slumped against the wall, blinking bewilderedly. She sat beside him and slipped a small container of water out of her pocket, which she'd managed to find while they were herding the Cranks around. Anna helped Newt sit up, and held the rim of the bottle to his lips, tipping it back and hoping that he swallowed most of it. Newt coughed, but managed not to spit all over the floor.

Anna wasn't sure, but Newt seemed to perk up slightly after she'd gotten some water into him. He was still sweaty and bleary-eyed, but he wasn't as listless and confused as he'd been before. Anna reached around him and took off his jacket; it somehow hadn't occurred to her until then that that might be a good idea.

Miraculously, in the ten minutes before Minho returned, Newt seemed mostly to recover from his brief episode of heat exhaustion. He was talking sense, at least, which was a definite improvement.

When Minho walked into the room, Anna was thoroughly shocked to see him trailed by Thomas and Brenda, both of whom looked miserable and exhausted. She stood up quickly, rushing over to where they stood.

"What happened?" she demanded. "Where the shuck did you guys go? What are you doing here?"

Brenda flashed her a dirty look, and Thomas held a hand up to indicate that Anna needed to slow down.

"Just a sec," he said. "I can't focus—my shucking head is killing me."

Anna tapped her foot impatiently.

"Listen, I get that you're probably hung over from that party last night, but could I please inquire as to why you went clubbing instead of going to find us?"

"We didn't go _clubbing,_ " Brenda snapped. "We took the underground route and found ourselves here. They forced us to come inside."

"What happened while you were underground?" asked Jorge, whom Anna hadn't noticed was standing right behind her. His eyes were glimmering with relief and concern, which were the most human emotions she'd seen in him so far.

"There were a whole bunch of Cranks," Thomas said. "One of them almost caught us. Once we were out of the tunnels, we walked around town for a while until we found this place. Then the people inside wouldn't let us leave until they'd drugged us and we passed out on the floor. We woke up tied to chairs and Minho found us."

"Alright, that's great, but we really have to get out of here," Minho said. "I don't think that these Cranks will be hung over for much longer."

Thomas nodded.

"Okay," he agreed. "Let's go."

The Gladers gathered up their meager supplies that they'd scavenged and headed out the door. Newt walked beside Anna, and he seemed to have miraculously returned completely to his old self. Anna was personally very relieved, because she'd wondered what they were going to do with him.

The group had barely made it ten feet before Anna heard a yell from behind them. She turned around to see the short blond man who had been previously standing guard outside the building with the screwdriver lady. He had a gun pointed towards the Gladers, and he had a look of complete insanity on his face. Anna stepped back involuntarily. She started to say something, but before she could open her mouth, the man pulled the trigger. The gunshot resonated through the air, causing Anna to jump back in shock before glancing wildly around, trying to get her bearings. She could tell by then that she hadn't been shot, but as she looked over at the others, she could tell that not all of them had been that lucky.

 **A/N: Sorry about the cliffhanger (not really) :) (Although I'm sure all of you know exactly what's going to happen anyway.)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello again everyone!**

 **(I bet you weren't expecting an update for another month. I'm finally upholding my promises to update more quickly!)**

 **Just FYI, t** **his chapter gets sort of graphic (Like violence and blood- but definitely not enough for an M rating), and I figured I should warn you.**

 **Again, I'd really appreciate it if you favorite/follow/review!**

 **Byeeeeee**

 **\- Plerfstacks :)**

Chapter 6

Thomas was curled on the ground in the fetal position, with one hand clasped over his left shoulder. His blood had begun pooling over the concrete and seeping into the cracks. Anna rushed over and knelt beside him, rolling him over as gently as she could. His face had turned paper-white and his eyes were tightly closed; his eyebrows were knit so close together that they were almost touching. Anna looked over at the others, who were just watching her in shock.

"Somebody help me," she cried. "Stop standing there!"

Newt dropped to the floor beside her, snapping out of his daze. He yanked off his t-shirt and pressed it to the wound in Thomas's shoulder. Thomas's eyelids fluttered slightly, and his breathing quickened, but he didn't otherwise respond. Newt cursed, looking down at the instantly blood-soaked shirt, and looked at Anna helplessly.

"What do we do?" he asked desperately. "We can't just let him bleed out."

"I can help him," Jorge volunteered. "We need a fire."

Anna wheeled around to glare at him.

"Why didn't you mention that before, shuckface? Now he's already lost about half the shucking blood in his shucking body—"

Newt shushed her.

"Good," he said to Jorge. "What do we do?"

"Just bring him somewhere safe. I'll do the rest."

Anna looked down at Thomas, who still seemed conscious, though he was definitely teetering on the edge.

"We're gonna try and pick you up, okay?" Anna said to him, hoping he could hear her. She wasn't sure, but Thomas seemed to nod slightly in response. Anna gingerly placed her hands under Thomas's arms and nodded to Newt, who grabbed his feet.

"This is gonna hurt a lot, Tommy," Newt said to him. "We're trying to be careful, but there's only so much we can do."

Thomas grimaced harder, but he didn't respond otherwise.

"Okay, one, two, three," Anna said to Newt, and on "three", they both stood up. Thomas's back arched as he cried out once and then fell limp in their arms. She and Newt carried him as quickly as they could, following the group. They stopped when they got to a small, secluded alley about a hundred yards from the building that they'd been in previously. They set Thomas down on the pavement, and Jorge set to work on building a fire. Anna and Newt sat together, leaning against the brick wall of the alleyway, watching anxiously as Jorge grabbed a very convenient pack of matches from his pocket and lit a piece of paper. He added cardboard and additional paper until they had a large, flickering fire.

"This is only gonna burn for so long," Jorge warned them. "Be better if we had some wood, but I haven't seen that stuff in what feels like forever."

Anna nodded.

"You guys keep adding stuff to keep it burning," she instructed the others. "Use your shucking clothes if you have to."

She turned to Jorge.

"What're you planning?" she asked.

"I'm gonna try and get the bullet out—and cauterize the wound while we're at it," he replied, grabbing a knife from his pocket and holding it into the flames. "It should work—I've done it before."

Anna nodded again and left Jorge to it. She walked over to where Newt was sitting beside Thomas.

"Is he alright?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah, he's just peachy," Newt said sarcastically. "Better than ever, if you ask me."

Anna frowned.

"Okay, sorry for caring," she said, slightly annoyed. Newt sighed.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm just stressed. First I practically die from dehydration, and then Tommy gets shot by a Crank."

"Yeah," Anna agreed softly. "But you just need to get used to it. We're the shucking test subjects. We're essentially just lab rats, so our life is gonna suck no matter how you spin it."

Newt nodded thoughtfully.

"But, you know, it hasn't been _all_ bad," he said. "I have you."

Anna felt her face warm as she smiled fondly at him. Leave it to Newt to say something sweet at the exact right moment. She leaned forward to press her lips against his, but pulled away after a moment. Anna needed to face reality, and right then, reality was the fact that Thomas was going to die if they didn't help him. Anna glanced over at Jorge.

"You almost done?" she asked. He nodded.

"Just give it thirty more seconds, _muchacha._ "

She waited impatiently until Jorge removed the glowing knife from the flames and turned toward Anna.

"Be careful," she warned him. "You don't want to make it worse."

"I know," he replied. "I've done this before, remember?"

"Okay," said Anna, nodding. "I'll stay out of your way."

Jorge held the knife loosely in his hand as he assessed Thomas's injury.

"Yeah, we definitely need to take the bullet out," Jorge muttered, seemingly to himself. "Who knows what sort of dirt there was on that thing."

"Wait, I think he's awake," Newt said from beside Anna. She swore. Out of all the times he could've chosen to wake up, now was possibly the worst.

"Okay," Anna muttered. "Just… hold him down."

Newt looked over at her for a moment, and then, with a slightly sick look on his face, he positioned himself so one of his knees was pressing into Thomas's chest and his hands were pinning Thomas's wrists to the hard concrete of the ground.

"Do it," she instructed Jorge. "Just shucking do it."

Jorge nodded and leaned over Thomas's inert form, holding his still-white-hot knife in a steady hand. Anna couldn't tear her horrified gaze from the tip of the blade as Jorge pressed the knife into Thomas's shoulder with a sizzling noise and the smell of cooking meat. Thomas let out a shriek as he struggled to release himself from Newt's grip, but Newt wouldn't let go of him until he collapsed to the ground again. Anna tried hard not to vomit as Jorge, unaffected by Thomas's outburst, continued cutting the bullet out of his shoulder. Blood ran over the pavement, soaking Anna's hands and knees. It felt like an eternity before Jorge, his face sweaty and smeared with blood from his hands, looked up at Anna and triumphantly presented the bullet to her. Anna really did vomit at the sight of it, dripping with blood and covered in little bits of Thomas's flesh. She wiped her mouth with her wrist, and threw up again when she realized that she was just spreading blood all over her face. Jorge finished his job quickly after that, and before too long, Thomas was as patched up as they could manage.

"Will he be alright?" Anna asked Jorge.

He shook his head indecisively.

"I dunno, _hermana,_ " he said. "I guess we've just got to find out."

Jorge instructed Anna and Newt to stay with Thomas, and then he walked over to join Brenda, who had been watching from a short distance with a look of horror on her face. Anna wanted to glare at her, but she couldn't find it in herself. She was too frazzled from the past hour's events. She turned towards Newt, who looked just as upset as she was.

"You okay?" she asked. He shook his head.

"No," he replied. "What kind of question is that?"

"Yeah, I'm not okay either," Anna admitted. They lapsed into silence for a moment.

"Hey, you're still not wearing a shirt," she realized, looking at Newt.

"I don't have one," he said, shrugging. "I gave mine to Tommy."

"Yeah," she said. "I have your jacket, though; do you want it?"

Newt nodded.

"Yeah, thanks," he said. "It was getting sort of awkward."

Anna smiled slightly. She wasn't going to admit it, but she didn't mind Newt's lack of a shirt. Newt seemed to be aware of this fact, however, because he was blushing as he pulled on his jacket and buttoned it up as far as it would go.

Anna leaned into him, letting her head rest against his chest where it fit so nicely, and traced her thumb over his knuckles, which were cracked and bleeding just like hers from the dry weather. He put his arm around her shoulders and looked down at her through his long blond eyelashes, a small smile quirking the side of his mouth up. Anna smiled back, snuggling her head closer into his chest. She closed her eyes contentedly, allowing herself for just a moment to forget all her problems.

The Gladers, Brenda, and Jorge stayed there for the next few days, unable to abandon Thomas lying helplessly on the ground. Anna wasn't sure when they'd be able to leave, because Thomas really wasn't getting any better. His shoulder, though it had stopped bleeding quite some time ago, had become swollen and off-looking, and Anna was almost certain that it wasn't supposed to do that. She spent most of her time worrying about the kid, and she wondered what had happened to her not-quite-friendly relationship with him. She'd gone from finding him irritating to trying desperately to save his life in about ten minutes. She supposed that that was how it was in a life-or-death scenario. You saved the person, without worrying about who it was or how you felt about them.

Brenda had taken to sitting beside Thomas for hours on end, holding his hand and staring down at him with her brow creased. Anna still didn't like Brenda, but she did respect her for her devotion.

It was on the second day after the Crank had shot Thomas when Anna heard Jorge shout,

 _"Berg!"_

His shout was followed immediately by a deafening whirring noise that almost shook something loose from Anna's memory blocks, but not quite.

Anna frantically looked for the Berg, whatever that was, and was met with the sight of a large plane that landed on the sand about fifty yards from where the Gladers had set up camp. Two people ran out of the plane and over to the group, and Anna had grabbed her knife and was about to tear them to shreds when she saw that they weren't trying to attack them. Instead, they ignored the Gladers entirely and went for Thomas, grabbing him by the arms and legs and carrying him into their ship.

"Tommy!" Newt cried from behind her. "Where the bloody shuck are they taking him?"

Anna could only shake her head as she stared at the plane—the Berg—as it took off and flew away. Her head began to throb as the dam that held back all her missing memories threatened to break once more. She clung to it desperately, trying to reclaim whatever she could. A few brief flashes flew through her mind—a small, soft hand held in her own, a room splattered with blood, the feeling of abandonment. She blinked hard, trying to get rid of the vertigo. Regaining her balance, she turned towards Newt.

"What do we do?" she asked, thoroughly shocked by what had just occurred. Newt shook his head helplessly.

"I dunno, love," he replied. "We've just got to sit here and wait it out, I guess."

Anna sighed in response to his words and trudged back to the small shelter that the Gladers were staying in, preparing herself for a long day of waiting.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Anna spent the next day or so curled up against the wall with her body pressed against Newt's, her head resting on his shoulder. She didn't know what to do next—should they wait there for the Berg to return with Thomas (on the unlikely chance that it would), or should they get up and leave? Anna wanted someone else to decide. She was done. Done with being the leader, done with fretting day and night about her charges and their safety, done with making decisions. She didn't want the responsibility anymore. She knew, however, that this wasn't an option, because she didn't entirely know what would happen if she let Jorge take over completely. Probably he and Minho would end up killing one another and Newt would be left in charge. Either way, Anna knew she needed to keep going. The Gladers depended on it.

The group had been slumped listlessly in their small building for at least twenty-four hours, using up their supplies without making any progress on their mission, before the whirring noise of the Berg filled the air once more. Anna jumped to her feet, her sudden movement jerking Newt awake. He stood up beside her and looked around, blinking in confusion.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"I think the Berg's coming back with Thomas," Anna said, not entirely paying attention to Newt. Her eyes were fixated on the shape of the large plane as it touched down in front of them. The door on the side opened up and a figure walked out. As it came closer, it became obvious that it was Thomas, looking remarkably unscathed. The Berg rose up into the sky again once Thomas had begun walking towards the Gladers, and by the time he reached them it was gone. Anna was the first to intercept him.

"Where the shuck did you just go, shank?" she asked, unsure how exactly to feel right then. Thomas just looked at her.

"I don't know," he said after a second. "I was out of it most of the time. I guess those people were from WICKED, and they didn't want me to die, so they came to interfere."

"They didn't give a bloody shuck when Winston and half the others got blown to bits by lightning," Newt pointed out, sounding slightly annoyed. "Why are you special?"

Thomas shrugged.

"I really have no clue. Maybe the lightning was supposed to happen and the Crank with the gun wasn't?"

Newt made a grunting noise that indicated that he wasn't satisfied, but was going to let it slide. Anna ignored him.

"Okay," she said to Thomas. Then, to the group as a whole, "Let's go back inside. We'll fry like bacon if we stay here much longer."

The Gladers murmured assent, and Anna followed them to the small shack they'd been living in for the past two days. Once inside, she looked at Thomas again.

"Spill, shank," she demanded. "I want all the details, now."

"I see we've gone back to being incredibly hostile," Thomas muttered under his breath. Anna pretended not to have heard. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Okay," Thomas sighed. "But honestly, I'll keep saying it, there's really not much of a story to tell. I woke up in a bright room with a bunch of voices around me, I passed out again. This cycle repeated for about—How long was it again?"

"Two days," Newt supplied.

"Two days," Thomas repeated. "So, yeah, that's the whole story."

Anna frowned. She'd expected more information, but decided not to press him any further.

"Alright, shank," she said, sighing and pushing away the rebellious locks of hair that had escaped her ponytail. "Let's go to bed, then. We need to make sure we have enough energy to go hiking through the burning sand in shucking seven million degree heat tomorrow."

The next morning, Anna heard voices above her when she woke up. It took her a moment to realize that she was lying with her head in Newt's lap and that he was talking to Thomas and Minho. She sat up, rubbing the sand out of her eyes.

"Hey," she mumbled, smiling sleepily. "I see I'm finally not the first one up."

"We figured we should get a head start on you," said Minho. "Ya know, to give us some time to conspire and plot against you."

"Oh, shut up," Anna laughed. "You couldn't lead these shanks for five minutes."

"I'm sure I'd do a great job," Minho replied, making a face of false hurt.

"Okay, guys, stop with the small talk," Newt stepped in. "We need to establish what we're gonna do with ourselves."

"I vote we stay here in this city," Thomas said. "We could probably loot more supplies off of the Cranks here."

"Tommy, I keep telling you," Newt said exasperatedly. "We can't stay here. If we stay here in this bloody city, we'll all become those crazy shanks who eat people's faces."

Thomas frowned, but he nodded in reluctant agreement.

"Good point," he replied.

"I say the best plan is to get everyone up and across the Scorch as fast as possible," Anna voted. "That _is_ what we're here to do, after all. If we find any supplies lying around, then sure, go ahead and take them, but we're not making any more pit stops."

"If that's the best plan, then we're all goners," Minho said. "Remember how awful it was trying to get here in the first place? We don't even have those sheets anymore to keep us from burning alive."

"Listen Minho," Newt sighed. "She's right. It's not the best plan, but it's never getting any better than this."

"Thank you," Anna said to Newt. He leaned down and kissed her forehead. Minho cleared his throat loudly.

"I'm gonna step in now before this gets any further. How 'bout I sit between you lovebirds." Minho moved so he was sitting in between Anna and Newt, who were both making faces in between amusement and annoyance.

"You're so immature, shuckface," Newt said.

"I'm just protecting the children."

"I'm assuming that would mean me," Thomas put in.

"You bet," Minho responded, smirking.

"Okay, back to the real issue here," Anna interrupted, refusing to let them go off on any more tangents. "We're wasting time. We need to suck it up and go."

"You're right," Newt replied. "Let's get a move on."

Sweat poured down Anna's face as she daydreamed about the Glade, where the weather was always perfect. They had running water there, too, and while it wasn't always the most crystal clear, it was better than what they had in the Scorch, which was to say practically nothing. The only thing that had been keeping her from collapsing onto the sand was the fact that she knew full well that if she were to do so the rest of the Gladers would likely follow her.

Right around the hour mark, Anna and the other Gladers noticed a small speck on the horizon that seemed to be a group of people.

"Guys, stop for a second," Anna called. "Am I having some sort of UV ray induced hallucination, or can you see what I'm seeing?"

"I can see it just fine," one of the Gladers—Frypan—replied. "It looks like people. Do you think they're the ones with the cure?"

"They said we'd have to find it ourselves," Thomas pointed out. "I don't think they'd send the cure to us."

"This seems sketchy," Jorge murmured. "I guess they could be Cranks, but they're pretty far away from the city."

"The only way to find out is to meet them," Brenda decided. "Let's go."

Anna led the group closer and closer to the strange people walking towards them. As they approached them, Anna could tell that they were all female, and that they didn't look too friendly. Suddenly, Thomas's eyes went wide and he pointed over at the other people.

"It's Teresa," he said. "I'm sure of it."

"Would that be the girlfriend you were telling me about?" asked Brenda.

"Now is not the time for relationship drama," Anna snapped. "What do you mean, you're sure of it?"

"I mean I'd know her a mile away. That's her. I swear."

Anna had no way to prove or disprove this besides continuing the trek, so that's precisely what she did.

After what seemed like an eternity, the Gladers found themselves face-to-face with the other group. Thomas had been right; it was definitely Teresa who was glaring at them as she stood with all the girls that she'd shown up with. There was no flicker of recognition or relief at being reunited with the Gladers in her expression, however, and Anna couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

"What's going on, Teresa?" asked Anna. She didn't reply to Anna's question, but instead raised her spear and said,

"We want Thomas."


	8. Chapter 8

**I'm back, baby.**

Chapter 8

Anna stood in stunned silence with her mouth hanging open as she watched Teresa and her group of friends drag away the burlap sack that contained Thomas.

"Um," Minho said bewilderedly, breaking the silence. "That happened."

"Yeah, it did," Newt responded, sounding annoyed. "Way to be observant."

"Shut up, shuckface."

"Nice comeback," Newt snapped. He opened his mouth to say more, but before he could do so Anna shook herself out of her daze, turning towards the two bickering Gladers.

 _"Both_ of you shut up," she interrupted them. "Teresa and her crazy group of shanks just dragged Thomas away in a sack and you two are fighting like little kids."

Newt had the decency to look slightly ashamed, but Minho continued glaring. Anna sighed.

"Look, guys," she addressed the group. "I know we're all really hot and tired and sweaty and miserable and completely in shock from what just happened. But we need to keep going, and we can't make progress if we're gonna argue with each other. You all understand?"

The Gladers murmured their reluctant assent, and Frypan gave a halfhearted "Hear, hear".

Anna continued to lead the Gladers, Jorge, and Brenda through the seemingly endless desert. Minho and Jorge were encompassed in a heated argument regarding who had been the most responsible for rescuing Thomas and Brenda from the Cranks' party. Anna had been listening them snapping back and forth for so long that she thought her head would explode and was seriously considering slitting both their throats.

"It was _my shucking idea_ ," Anna finally yelled over their bickering, and both parties snapped their attention over to her.

"Huh?" Minho asked.

"It was my idea," Anna repeated, recovering some of her composure. "We would've just waltzed right out of that city if it weren't for Newt almost dying and me deciding to find a place to get supplies. So, neither of you shanks were the valiant hero—it was me. And Newt, if you think about it." She turned back to face straight ahead, and she saw Frypan mime a mic drop to her left. Suppressing a smirk, Anna turned to Newt.

"That was some bloody speech," he remarked, and she laughed softly.

"I couldn't listen to them anymore," she sighed. "They're both too egocentric for their own good."

"You can say that again."

"Hey, Anna?" A voice came from behind her, and she turned to find Aris jogging to catch up from the back of the group.

"What's up, new kid?"

"Can you see that?"

Anna squinted to see what he was pointing to and sighed morosely as she realized that it was another person.

"Ah, shuck it," she muttered. "Not again."

"Who is it?" Aris asked.

"Well, I dunno, do I?" Anna snapped. "You all act like I'm some sort of all-seeing, all-knowing _entity_ who can just read shapes on the horizon and _magically_ decide _exactly_ what the shuck is gonna happen when, as if I somehow have a better understanding of this than you and aren't _just as terrified and hot and thirsty and tired and_ —"

She felt a hand on her shoulder, pushing her away from Aris's hesitantly retreating figure, and wheeled on her repressor to find that, of course, it was the ever-reliable Newt.

"Sorry," Newt was saying to Aris. "You probably shouldn't talk to her right now."

"No, it's fine," Anna sighed. "I just need some space. Being a leader sucks."

Aris nodded slowly, still looking wary.

"I didn't mean to set you off," he said apologetically.

"It's fine," Anna nodded. "I'm fine. Everything's fine."

"…If you say so."

As the day progressed, the spot on the horizon grew ever-nearer—near enough for Anna to realize that it was a band of people, not just one.

"Alright, shanks, stop walking," she called. "Everyone gather 'round. We're having a meeting."

"What's going on?" one of the Gladers called, and an echo of similar inquiries followed.

"Maybe if you just wait a shucking minute I'll tell you, ya slintheads," Anna sighed. "We all done asking questions? Good." She waited a moment to make sure she had everyone's attention before continuing. "Alright, as you all can probably tell, there's somebody coming. I don't know who they are, or what they want, or why they're here, but what I do know is this: they probably don't have anything good to tell us. So, everyone keep their guard up. We're stopping for the night—" —A chorus of excited murmurs arose— "—in about two hours." The Gladers gave a collective groan. Anna went on. "Until then, though, remember this: that person probably has bad news about lightning or sentient silver goop or something along those lines, and many of us may very well be dead by tomorrow. Thank you."

The group fell silent at the end of her morbid pep talk, and when she turned and began walking away, nobody followed her.

"What the shuck are you waiting for?" she asked, but they didn't move.

"Could we maybe get a less-depressing speech?" somebody called from the crowd. "Like the ones you used to do in the Glade?"

Anna stared at the boy who'd spoken. He was one of the younger Gladers—probably fourteen—and the innocence that still prevailed in his war-beaten face caused tears to well up in Anna's eyes.

"…Alright," she sighed. "Okay." She prepared herself for a moment, wondering how this was going to go. "Guys, I'm scared. Scared of everything that WICKED has thrown at us, and everything they haven't yet. I'm not gonna pretend that I'm not, and I know you all are too. But, when you think about it, when have we _not_ been scared? The Grievers, the Maze itself, Dave's cooking—" The older Gladers gave a small snicker at that, and Anna smiled, spirits fueled by their appreciation of her joke. "All those things were awful, and difficult, and just all around _scary,_ but we got through them. Just like we'll get through this. And whatever that person on the horizon has to say to us, we'll take it in stride, because we're the Gladers, damn it. We can make it through anything, and I hope you guys believe in yourselves as much as I believe in you."

There was a moment of silence following her speech—one in which Anna realized that there were tears streaming down a few faces in the crowd—hers included. The boy who'd initially requested a pep talk was smiling more broadly than Anna had thought possible.

"Thank you, Anna," he said, breaking the silence. "Now let's get going."

"That was some bloody pep talk," Newt said to her a few minutes after they'd continued their trek.

"Yeah," Anna nodded. "I dunno where it came from, honestly. I just hated myself all of a sudden for worrying these guys. Worrying's my job."

"You're good at it," Newt replied, smiling. Anna laughed.

"An expert," she agreed.

Newt glanced back at Minho, who was talking to Jorge again.

"Shuck," he muttered. "They're at it again. I'm gonna go intervene before it gets too nasty."

He kissed Anna's cheek and walked off to go mediate. She walked alone for a while, enjoying the peace and quiet, before she felt a hand on her shoulder and she sighed bitterly.

"Anna," Brenda said, catching up to her. "Can I talk to you a sec?"

"Depends on what you want to talk about," Anna muttered. Brenda smiled.

"Good answer," she nodded approvingly. "Listen, I just wanted to ask you how in the world you do it."

"You have to be more specific," Anna said impatiently. "I'm a busy woman; there are probably four more people lined up behind you to ask me questions."

"What I mean is… how do you lead all these guys? You've got them wrapped around your finger—the blond one dotes on you, the little ones can be tided over by an inspirational speech, and even the big tough guy listens to you. How do you do it?"

"That's a long story," Anna replied. "And not one that I usually would like to tell."

"But you'll tell me," Brenda said.

"And why's that?"

"Because we're the only two girls around here," Brenda pointed out. "We stick together."

"I'm fine being the only girl in my group," Anna said. "It worked for two years. Give me another reason."

"…Alright, you got me," Brenda said, holding her hands in the air in a gesture of surrender. "I'm just curious, is all."

"If you really want to know, there isn't an answer," Anna caved reluctantly. "I was one of the first of my group, and I just took charge. I gave them hope where there was none, and I gained their respect. My word is law."

Brenda nodded, looking impressed.

"You really are something, aren't you, Anna?" she noted.

"And you really are taking a while to notice that I answered your question."

Brenda laughed.

"Okay, I'll leave if you really want me to."

Anna barely had time to wonder if she'd been too harsh before Brenda was gone. Thankfully, nobody else came to talk to her—probably because she wasn't in a very accommodating mood—and before she knew it the two hours had flown by.

"Stop," she yelled. "Break time. Everyone find a spot on the sand; I'll wake you shuckfaces up in the morning."

Anna awoke to the muted, early-morning light of the sun. Squinting, she glanced around at her fellow Gladers to find that all of them were still asleep, despite the sunlight. She noticed that Newt and Minho were sprawled over each other, Newt's head on Minho's arm and Minho's face buried in Newt's hair, and she fought not to laugh. It seemed as if their bromance had really started to take hold once Anna made it plain she needed some space. Not wanting to wake them up, she crossed her legs and sat in silence for a while, relishing the mercifully-cool hours of the morning. After about ten peaceful minutes, she heard a muffled noise from below her and realized that Minho had just woken up to a faceful of Newt's hair.

"Hey, Anna," he said casually once he'd situated himself.

"Hey," she replied. "You and Newt did some good cuddling during the night?"

"Yeah, ya know," Minho shrugged. "I'm his second choice."

"Fair enough."

There was a long moment of silence before Minho hesitantly spoke up.

"Hey, Anna… are you okay?" he asked, and Anna frowned, slightly surprised.

"Since when do you care about that?" she asked. Minho looked unsure of himself, fidgeting slightly.

"I dunno," he admitted. "Since I decided to be a good friend?" Anna didn't reply, and he shrugged, throwing his hands up into the air. "Alright, never mind then, I guess that's what I get for—"

"No, it's okay," Anna sighed. "If you really want to know, I'm kind of stressed out. My job is really, really hard, and the fact that we're probably going to die soon isn't really helping me out. That group of people is coming closer, and I don't know what they're gonna say. So, all in all, no. I'm not okay."

"Well, for what it's worth, I think you're doing a great job," Minho said. "I'm kind of obnoxious most of the time, and I promise I'll try to stop arguing with Jorge."

Anna smiled slightly.

"Don't make promises you can't keep," she reminded him.

"I'll try to keep this one."

"You two having a heart-to-heart?" Newt asked from where he still lay sprawled on the sand.

"Nah, we're good," Minho said, shrugging. "And I have to say, Newt, for a guy who hasn't had a shower in who-knows-how-long, you don't make a bad cuddle buddy."

"Right back at you."

Anna laughed.

"You guys are dorks," she smiled.

"You know it," Minho agreed. Then, after a moment, "We should probably get going now, yeah? It'll get a lot hotter soon."

Anna sighed, though she knew he was right.

"I don't want to," she muttered. "But I guess it's my job to do things I don't want to do so I can set a good example."

"That's exactly why I never wanted your job," Minho nodded as Anna stood up.

"Hey, shuckfaces," Anna shouted, jerking some of the Gladers awake with the sound of her voice. "It's time to go. Up and at 'em, come on."

She passed some of their meager rations throughout the group for breakfast and began trudging towards their seemingly-unattainable goal for the rest of the morning. The speck on the horizon grew closer by the minute, and it became clear to Anna that this band of people was smaller than she'd thought—only a few straggling figures—and she knew that she would find out sooner than later who they were.

"Hey, Anna?" Aris said from behind her, tapping her shoulder. She turned.

"What's up?"

"I know those girls," Aris said, pointing at the figures who were now about half a mile away from them.

"Wait," Anna frowned. "You _know_ them? How?"

"They're from my group. Group B. That's Sandra and Allison and Maddie."

"Okay…" Anna said slowly. "Do you know why they'd be walking around the desert?"

"I have no idea," Aris shrugged. "But they're not bad people."

"Yeah, well, the same might have been said about our girl Teresa before she went nuts and kidnapped our Greenbean." Aris opened his mouth to protest, but Anna shushed him. "Look, nothing against your friends," she said. "But we have to be on our guard. I almost killed you when we met, remember? We can't trust anyone."

"Okay," Aris agreed reluctantly. "Sure."

Anna nodded, satisfied, and squinted against the blinding sun as she watched the Group B girls carefully. Within the next fifteen minutes they were in earshot, and Anna called out to them.

"Hey!" she yelled. "Group B! What the shuck are you doing here?"

The girls stared back at her before the tall blonde one replied.

"We got separated from our group," she called. "Thank God we found you."

Anna and the girls finally met in the middle, and before she could speak Aris had run forwards and wrapped his arms around the brunette, squeezing her tightly.

"Oh, my god, Allison, I missed you," he cried, and Allison smiled weakly, looking dazed. Aris let go and stared at her. "You guys got lost?"

The taller one spoke again.

"Not lost exactly," she corrected him. "Separated. After that girl Teresa took Thomas from you guys, we split off from the group to look for supplies. We told Britt, but I guess she didn't hear us, so when we came out they were gone."

"Sorry, am I missing something?" Anna asked, frowning. "Your group just abandoned you?"

"Yeah," the blonde spokesperson replied, nodding. "They… forgot about us, I guess."

"Shuck, am I glad I was the only girl not put in your group," Anna muttered. "We wouldn't do that."

"It's not their fault," the smallest girl put in. "We shouldn't have wandered."

"Okay, whatever," Anna shrugged. "Now that you're here, do you want some…" she trailed off. "I was going to say 'water', but we don't actually have much."

"It's fine," the girls' leader said, nodding. "Can we stay with your group for now?"

"Yeah, sure," Anna replied. "The more the merrier, I guess. I'm Anna, by the way."

"Sandra," the girl replied. "This is Allison, and that's Maddie."

"Cool. That guy over there is Jorge, and him with the blonde hair is Newt. We're the group's leaders."

Sandra nodded. The Gladers had started to murmur amongst themselves, and the snippets of conversation that Anna heard caused her to realize that they definitely didn't trust these girls. She herself hadn't ruled out the possibility that they could be dangerous, but she knew that they'd be no match against Anna's group, who was bigger and more physically fit than these three half-starved girls.

"Get to the back, you three," Anna instructed. "We're losing time; let's go."

Four hours later, Anna and her group had made little to no progress. They had been walking for so long that Anna felt as if her feet would fall off, and her tongue had dried up to the point where she wondered if it would ever be the same. They were seriously low on supplies, and Anna wasn't sure if they'd make it.

"Stop, guys," she called eventually, having had more than enough. "Lunch break… or whatever you call a lunch break where you don't really have food."

The Gladers lapsed into quiet conversation, and Anna sat with Newt, Minho, Brenda and Jorge, hoping to talk over some sort of plan.

"I'm worried about us," she said. "We're practically out of water, we have no food, and all of us are sunburnt and sweaty and exhausted. We're not gonna make it much longer, so what the shuck should we do?"

Nobody spoke, each member of her small group of advisors shaking their head hopelessly.

"We need to find _something,"_ Brenda finally said. "If we go too many days without water, we'll die, so the only solution is to find some water."

"Where the shuck do you plan on finding water?" Minho asked incredulously. "I don't exactly see a river around here."

"There are buildings along the way," Jorge pointed out. "Next one we find, we search. Simple as that."

"What if we don't find one?" Anna asked. "I haven't seen a building for at least seven miles."

"Then we just have to hope, don't we, _hermana?"_ Jorge shrugged.

"If those WICKED shanks can build a bloody brick wall in ten minutes, they can make a building," Newt pointed out. "If they really don't want us to die, they'll do that."

"And if they do?" Anna asked.

"Then we're shucked," Minho said nonchalantly. "Simple as that."

"You're not very helpful," Anna sighed. Then she stood up, deciding that they may as well get a move on. "C'mon everyone, up you get. I hate everything just as much as you do. Let's go."

An hour later, Anna couldn't believe her eyes. Like Newt had predicted, a lone shack of a building had appeared along their path, obviously their next destination.

"That's amazing," Anna whispered to herself. "Shucking amazing."

"What'd I say, _muchacha?"_ Jorge said, smiling knowingly. "There's always hope."

 **A/N: I should probably explain. It's been over a year since I posted a chapter of this story, and I hope I'll pick back up where I left off without quitting again. I sort of lost interest in it after a while, but I've been getting kind of a lot of support on both this story and the one that comes before it, so I decided to come back. So sorry to have kept you waiting for so long, and I hope you like it. Make sure to leave a review :)**


End file.
